


Colgando Por Un Momento

by incorrectbatfam



Category: DCU (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: 5 Times, Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Gift Work, M/M, Some Humor, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23912164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incorrectbatfam/pseuds/incorrectbatfam
Summary: No one would take Jaime for a country music fan.(He isn’t, except for this one song that seems to follow him everywhere.)
Relationships: Alberto Reyes/Bianca Reyes, Barry Allen/Iris West, Bart Allen/Jaime Reyes
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	Colgando Por Un Momento

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluepulsebluepulse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluepulsebluepulse/gifts).



> Written as a gift for @bluepulsebluepulse
> 
> Thank you to @bisexualoftheblade for beta-reading
> 
> The song referenced is Hanging By A Moment by Lifehouse

“Forgetting all I'm lacking.

Completely incomplete.”

The first time Jaime heard the song was in the kitchen. 

He’d just finished a grueling mission and all he wanted were his bed and his Mama’s tamales. 

Well, not in that order. His parents would kill him for having food on the bed. 

When he entered the house, he was met with a low country-rock tune echoing throughout. At first he thought it was the TV, but that theory was quickly disproved when he walked past the empty living room. 

He was stopped in the hallway by Milagro. She had the grimace on her face of a child who still believed in cooties.

“Don’t go in there,  _ Mama y Papa _ are being gross,” she said.

“It can’t be that bad, _hermanita_.” Jaime ruffled her hair, much to her displeasure.

“Don’t say I didn’t tell you so,” she said. 

It was nowhere near as bad as Milagro described, but that didn’t make it any less weird. The entire world knew the Reyes couple was madly in love since day one but in all eighteen years Jaime’s been alive, this was his first time seeing them dance to the radio in the kitchen. Bianca mixed something in a pot with one hand while the other held Alberto’s. She twirled under his arm between stirs, giddy as a young girl from a 1950s greaser movie. Alberto’s mustache quivered as he laughed. It was hypnotizing, the way they moved in sync like a pair of trained dancers as opposed to a middle-aged husband and wife surrounded by random ingredients and dirty dishes.

Jaime backed before they could notice as Khaji Da said,  **_“Your parental units have already consummated their relationship. There is no need for them to continue the mating rituals.”_ **

The boy closed his bedroom door before replying, “It’s called love, Khaji. Humans do things to show that they love each other even after things are official.”

**_“I do not see what purpose it serves.”_ **

“‘Course you don’t,” said Jaime. “It’s kind of like...I dunno, a reminder? You’re asking the wrong host. I’ve never actually been in love.”

It was something he always wondered about. What it was like to have someone, to hold them forever and knowing they felt the same. Jaime didn’t see himself as someone who could be loved. Not with the alien scarab on his back and the fact that he nearly brought the apocalypse a mere two years back. There wasn’t a single person who could look at him and think anything other than  _ death, destruction, a puppet of the Reach. _

Khaji Da interrupted his thoughts. 

**_“My observations indicate otherwise. You have experienced neurotransmitter levels consistent with ‘love’.”_ **

“ _ Hijole _ , shut up. I already have whatever the hell that song is stuck in my head.”

**_“Based on your history, you do not enjoy country music. I can remove it for you.”_ **

Jaime thought for a second. “Nah, leave it. It’ll go away eventually. It’s not that bad. I actually like it.”

  
  


“ I'll take your invitation.

You take all of me now.”

The second time he heard the song was at Barry Allen’s house.

Jaime knocked on the door of the West-Allen residence. The Flash personally invited him over to congratulate him and Bart on a mission well done. 

“In a second!” a female voice—Barry’s wife, he knew plenty well by now—called. 

He absentmindedly played with a loose thread on his gray sweatshirt as he waited, wondering if Bart had arrived yet or if he, like any other speedster, was going to be late again.

The door swung open to reveal an Iris West frantically wiping wet hands on an apron. From the living room, the infamous Tornado Toddlers raced to greet him, almost slamming into his shins if Khaji Da didn’t cover them with soft padding.

“ _ Tío Jaime! _ ” Dawn called, while Don simply requested, “Up, up!”

Jaime scooped them up in his arms. The scarab vibrated in irritation when Dawn reached over to poke it with a pudgy, drool-covered finger.

“You’re the first one here,” Iris said. “Barry ran out to grab dessert last-minute. From Smallville. And Bart said Artemis needed his help with something. Come on in, and close the door. Don’t want bugs getting in.”

She led the way to the kitchen, and the first thing to hit Jaime wasn’t the sweltering heat from the oven or the smell of fresh-baked lasagna. It was the song, playing from a nearby laptop that Iris hummed along to.

“That’s a nice song,” Jaime said. 

“Oh, you’ve heard it?” Iris asked. “I didn’t take you for a country person, Jaime. No offense.”

“None taken,” he said, putting the twins in their high chairs. “Normally I’m not, but I kinda like this song.”

“It’s one of my favorites,” Iris said. “It played in the car on Barry and I’s first date and has held a special place since.” She stopped to check the contents of the oven before closing it again.

Jaime felt the  _ whoosh _ of not one, but two gusts of wind. One passed him with a basket of Ma Kent’s famous cookies, the other stopped and threw an arm around his shoulders. 

“Her-man-o, it’s been forever!”

Jaime cringed at the butchered Spanish. He begged Bart not to attempt a foreign language but the speedster never listened. 

“It’s  _ hermano _ ,” Jaime said, “and you saw me yesterday. Mission,  _ recuerdas _ ?”

“That’s like a year for me.”

Bart’s hand hung loosely by Jaime’s shoulder and Jaime had half the mind to hold it.

“ _ Gracias _ for inviting me,” the older boy said to Barry and Iris. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re basically family,” Barry said. “Remember when I almost grounded both of you for staying up too late?”

Bart threw his head back and laughed. Dark ginger locks bounced, momentarily covering the single cherry freckle behind his ear. Jaime didn’t mean to stare, but since when did Bart have a freckle there? More importantly, why was Jaime overcome with the urge to kiss it? 

“Alright, boys, go set the table,” Iris said to her husband and grandson. “First two trays are ready to serve and the other two are in the oven.”

The two zipped off before she could finish talking. 

She shook her head, smiling. “Speedsters. Gotta love them.”

  
  


“ I'm falling even more in love with you.

Letting go of all I've held onto.”

The third time was back home, in his father’s garage.

It was hard to hear over the rattling engine and sound of metal scraping against metal,

but it was there, playing over the radio. Alberto’s singing—albeit not the best—could be heard also. 

“Uh, Papa?” Jaime called. “Mamá  _ y _ Abuela made taquitos. They wanted me to bring some out to you.”

There was a grunt as Alberto pointed to a workbench. Jaime set the warm plate there.

“What’cha working on?” he asked. 

His father replied, “Right now, just trying to get this  _ hijo de puta  _ out from the carburetor.” He pointed to a black glob stuck in the engine of an already ancient-looking minivan.

“Don’t let Abuela hear that,” Jaime said with a laugh. “You’ll never be old enough to escape  _ la chancla _ .”

“ _ Dios _ , don’t remind me,” Alberto said with a smile.

**_“Jaime Reyes, your paternal unit seems to be releasing a slightly greater amount of endorphins when listening to this song. Perhaps the music contains mind-bending properties. Suggested course of action: eliminate the source.”_ **

Jaime sent a glare over his shoulder, thankful that his father was too busy to notice. 

“Say, why do you keep playing that song?” Jaime asked.

Alberto chuckled. “Remember going to Cuernavaca for your  _ primo’s _ graduation?”

The teen rolled his eyes. “How could I forget? Emilio put a spider down my shirt in the middle of the party.”

“ _ Tu madre y yo _ were in charge of arranging the music and setting up the dance floor. She looked like  _ una princesa _ there and I guess at that moment I remembered all the reasons why I married her. Also, it was one spider, Jaime.  _ No seas una gallina _ .”

“I assume it’s a pretty popular love song then,” the boy said. “The other week Iris West told me that it’s her favorite ‘cause of Barry.”

“I thought you didn’t like country? But whatever.  _ Es una perfecta canción de amor _ ,” Alberto said. “It’s the perfect love song  _ porque _ it works for anyone.”

“ _ ¿Eso crees? _ ” Jaime had a hard time believing it could work for everyone. If that were true, then someone he loved would’ve come to mind by now. But when he dug for someone, all he could think of was his friend.

“I know so. Now get over here, I need someone to share these taquitos with.”

  
  


“ I'm standing here until you make me move.

I'm hanging by a moment here with you.”

The fourth time he heard it, it was by a mediocre cover band at the El Paso County Fair.

Bart was enthralled by it, because the future didn’t have county fairs teeming with boisterous children and equally noisy day-drinkers and local artists who never got their break. Jaime, of course, paid out of his pocket. Which was turning out to be a lot as he watched Bart chow down on his sixth ice cream cone. The older boy grabbed a napkin from a nearby table and wiped the dripping strawberry from Bart’s chin without so much as a second thought. 

“Thanks Blue,” Bart said, before he proceeded to return to make the same mess again. “Hey, look, they’re playing the song my grandma likes. She said it’s the perfect love song or whatever.”

The band itself comprised of four men in their forties who probably got voted “most likely to be a rockstar” in their yearbooks. Their vocals were average, though heavier on the Texan accents. And Jaime swore the drummer was wearing a soda hat. He decided he liked the original better.

“My parents love that song,” Jaime said. “I swear, ever since I heard it it’s been everywhere. Not gonna lie, it’s growing on me.”

“Funny, I didn’t take you for a country guy,” Bart said between licks. 

Jaime finished his ice cream back on Bart’s third, and as full as he was he kind of wanted one last taste. His eyes flicked to Bart’s lips for a split second before looking away, face warm and stomach crawling with butterflies.

“I-I’m not,” Jaime countered. “It’s just this one song. I like it.”

Bart hummed in agreement. “Yeah, it’s pretty crash. Kinda like us.”

“ _ ¿Qué? _ ”

“You know, as a team. You and me. BB and KF. Besties forever!”

Jaime coughed awkwardly. “Right. Yeah.”

Something about it didn’t sit right with him, and Jaime had a pretty good idea what when Khaji Da chirped,  **_“Your heart rate and perspiration have elevated significantly and your endorphin levels are high. Recommended tactic: pursue romantic endeavors with the Bart Allen.”_ **

“You okay, Blue?” Bart asked.

“ _ Sí _ . All good,” Jaime said. 

Something in him—maybe the scarab, maybe pure stupid courage—acted. 

He took Bart’s hand, saying, “Let’s go to the Ferris Wheel. The line’s not that long.”

Jaime searched Bart for any sign of discomfort or awkwardness or—and this was hoping—that the younger boy wanted that. He gave up when he couldn’t find a readable expression on the speedster, only emerald eyes twinkling like always. Though he swore he felt a light squeeze. He prayed that his hand wasn’t as clammy as it felt.

“Sounds crash. After that, let’s go on that ride.” 

Bart casually pointed to the Tunnel of Love and Jaime nearly fainted on the spot.

  
  


“I'm living for the only thing I know.

I'm running and not quite sure where to go.”

The fifth time was because the team was a bunch of jerks.

At least, that was what Jaime thought when he heard it from someone’s phone in the living room. They’d just returned from a long battle. Everyone was still in uniform, dirty and scruffed up and exhausted from the fight. Bart, especially, as he took the brunt of the work since it could only be done by a speedster. He had fallen asleep on the couch while watching a movie and was comfortably tucked into Jaime’s still-armored side. 

Jaime didn’t dare move and wake him up. What kind of monster would do that? Especially since Bart looked so peaceful. The worry lines disappeared, like the not-future didn’t exist and he didn’t have to time travel and single-handedly save the world from an extraterrestrial invasion. Bart snuggled closer and Jaime wrapped an arm around him. With his free hand, he combed the grains of sand out of the soft copper hair, taking caution not to wake him up.

He wondered how Bart did it. How Bart looked at the Blue Beetle suit and saw anything other than the barren wastelands he escaped. How Bart looked at Jaime and saw not a tormentor, but a friend. Someone he trusted so much that he could sleep cuddling against the armor without so much as a second thought for his safety. If the roles were reversed, Jaime would’ve run as far away as possible.

That was a lie. He could never run from Bart.

Jaime brushed the hair and gently pressed his lips to Bart’s forehead. He took in the scent, which wasn’t pleasant by conventional standards because of all the sweat and grime, but it felt nice to Jaime.

He hadn’t even noticed they weren’t alone. Not until he heard the all too familiar opening bass riffs of the song from the other side of the room.

“Kon!”

“Sorry, Cassie, gimme a sec–”

“Just give it to Tim.”

“No don’t my hands are–”

There was the sound of a phone clattering onto the linoleum floor. Jaime worried it’d wake Bart, but the latter proved to be a deep sleeper as he simply mumbled something incoherent and latched tighter. Jaime wrapped his other arm around protectively while glaring daggers at Wonder Girl, Robin, and Superboy. The former two still had their phones out, clearly taking photos. 

Jaime gave them a look that roughly translated to, _ “Wake him up and there will be hell to pay.” _

  
  


“And I don't know what I'm diving into.

Just hanging by a moment here with you.”

“I’m in love with Kid Flash.”

Jaime clamped his hand over his mouth. Both the team and the Justice League stared, gaping. Except Wonder Girl and Red Robin. Those two shits had the audacity to exchange money. Everyone else was visibly stunned to some degree or another (except Batman). Zatanna lowered the hand that casted the truth spell. Kid Flash looked like he wanted to say something, but stayed silent for once in his life. Under the mask, hot tears of humiliation pricked Jaime’s eyes. 

It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. Jaime wasn’t even sure it was supposed to happen at all. Now everyone, including Bart—especially Bart—knew Jaime’s longest-kept secret. 

He didn’t give a damn about the debriefing or whatever the Justice League wanted from him. Jaime turned around and flew from the headquarters. He briefly registered someone called his name, but didn’t look to find out. He didn’t spare so much as a glance back until he reached El Paso. Jaime landed on a random rooftop and retracted his mask.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” he cried. “Now he won’t want anything to do with me. Why can’t everyone believe what I say the first time?”

“I agree, it’s totally moded,” a voice said from beside him.

Jaime quickly wiped his eyes as he glanced at the person beside him. His throat went dry and his heart pounded against his ribcage.

“Bart…”

“The adults are kind of jerks sometimes,” Bart said. “They expect respect, but don’t even let people have basic privacy. It’s so moded. Zatanna shouldn’t have forced you with that spell. You were telling the truth. It’s their fault for not believing.”

Jaime couldn’t even remember what the debrief was about anymore. 

“So...are you gonna think I’m weird? For, uh...liking you?” 

Their fingers laced together.

“Not in the slightest,” Bart said, tilting Jaime’s chin to look him in the eye, “because I’m in love with you too.”

“Really?”

Jaime’s breath hitched. Bart leaned forward. Lips met, and the problems of that night melted away and it was just the two of them. The way it was meant to be. 

When they pulled apart, Bart said, “There's nothing in the world that can change my mind.”

Each word sounded like a music note, the way the speedster said them. And Jaime believed every last one.


End file.
